Knightshift Stories -- Campaign Log

[Matt Frisbee]

Re: Knightshift Stories -- Campaign Log

 

The session six entry was another hit. Well written and very entertaining. I always have a hard time writing accounts in first person since I'm always a little worried about puting words into the mouths of player-characters. That's why I usually stick to the third person perspective.

 

To date, none of my players has complained about my embellishments to their sessions, and I find that first-person is the easiest perspective to write, so that's the way I do it. If someone in the group raises a complaint (or I get short on time like I am this week), I'll go back to my summary writing style which takes less time and is generally very boring to read and write (IMHO).

 

Strangely, though, I don't find the summary style boring when I'm reading about someone else's campaign, so maybe it's just me...

 

Matt "Gotta-motor-again" Frisbee

[oroborous]

Re: Knightshift Stories -- Campaign Log

 

Here is the HTML file for Cypher. IMHO when a character has NCM they shouldn't have to buy their weapons or body armor with CP, so that is where the points disparity comes in. This is, of course, a GM call, so feel free to change it back if you want. So here is his equipment, since it doesn't print on the export file. And the cherry on top will be the Harley-Davidson Motorcycle.

[Vassoom]

Re: Knightshift Stories -- Campaign Log

 

To date, none of my players has complained about my embellishments to their sessions, and I find that first-person is the easiest perspective to write, so that's the way I do it. If someone in the group raises a complaint (or I get short on time like I am this week), I'll go back to my summary writing style which takes less time and is generally very boring to read and write (IMHO).

 

Strangely, though, I don't find the summary style boring when I'm reading about someone else's campaign, so maybe it's just me...

 

Matt "Gotta-motor-again" Frisbee

I would like to echo the "Great jyorb!" on the Session 6 writeup. I also like the puzzles you put into the session for the players. (I'm a big fan of in-game puzzles.)

 

Although I rarely (if ever) have the cajones to write-up a session summary in first person narrative using the voice of one of the PCs, it reads very nicely...so if the players seem to like it, too, then more power to ya!

 

- Vassoom

 

P.S. I very much enjoyed your dramatic use of the non-consecutive entries, as well.

[Matt Frisbee]

Re: Knightshift Stories -- Campaign Log

 

Here is the HTML file for Cypher. IMHO when a character has NCM they shouldn't have to buy their weapons or body armor with CP' date=' so that is where the points disparity comes in. This is, of course, a GM call, so feel free to change it back if you want. So here is his equipment, since it doesn't print on the export file. And the cherry on top will be the Harley-Davidson Motorcycle.

 

Excellent once again! I can understand wanting to give "normals" a break when everybody is markedly superhuman, but I'm more comfortable making all characters play by the same rules. Shawn wanted a detective type who wasn't a combat heavy, which plays to his strengths as a player, so that's what we made. I think he still got a break with the motorcycle (thanks for writing it up, by the way). The bike itself is more a bare-bones functional model than anything fancy, stripped down to blend rather than be an ego statement.

 

We'll see how things go Friday, since I'm expecting all three players at the table. Yay!

 

Matt "The-thankful-one" Frisbee

[oroborous]

Re: Knightshift Stories -- Campaign Log

 

I think he still got a break with the motorcycle (thanks for writing it up' date=' by the way). The bike itself is more a bare-bones functional model than anything fancy, stripped down to blend rather than be an ego statement.[/quote']

 

I cannot take credit where credit isn’t due. Even though I am a masochist and I’ll transcribe anyone’s character for a beer and salted peanuts, I’m also a lazy SOB. I have in my possession prefab characters, vehicles, animals, etc. One of those is for the V-Rod that I gave you.

 

Now if you want to have an H-D that is more beat up and less ostentatious and a little more gritty, all you have to do is lose 1 DEX, subtract 1 from Ground Movement and add one DEF. Now you have a Dyna Soft Tail.

 

If you want a Road King you would add 5 STR and 2 DEF, lose 3 DEX and the +2 to ground movement. Then add in some armor that protects only from behind to reflect the fact that Road Kings have saddlebags on the sides and behind the ladies' seat.

[Matt Frisbee]

Re: Knightshift Stories -- Campaign Log

 

I cannot take credit where credit isn’t due. Even though I am a masochist and I’ll transcribe anyone’s character for a beer and salted peanuts, I’m also a lazy SOB. I have in my possession prefab characters, vehicles, animals, etc. One of those is for the V-Rod that I gave you.

 

Now if you want to have an H-D that is more beat up and less ostentatious and a little more gritty, all you have to do is lose 1 DEX, subtract 1 from Ground Movement and add one DEF. Now you have a Dyna Soft Tail.

 

If you want a Road King you would add 5 STR and 2 DEF, lose 3 DEX and the +2 to ground movement. Then add in some armor that protects only from behind to reflect the fact that Road Kings have saddlebags on the sides and behind the ladies' seat.

 

Well, since it has already been established that Cypher's bike isn't a soft tail (he carried Powerhouse as a passenger back in Session Three), we'll keep the stats for that version but just say that it's a "flat back" with enough room and footpegs for a muscular lady who's six feet tall.

 

As the GM, I do have a soft spot for Cypher since it is fairly close to the "Gray Ghost" character I put together for a DC Heroes game -- not a heavy hitter, but he had gobs of Hero Points to use for spectacular feats of daring do!

 

Matt "Loved-the-Gray-Ghost-episode-of-Batman-TAS" Frisbee

[Matt Frisbee]

Re: Knightshift Stories -- Campaign Log

 

SESSION SEVEN – 08 SEP 06 “SIGNS, PART II”

 

Starring:

Barry as Powerhouse (AKA Rhonda Savage)

Brad as Nightblade (AKA Jack Kuragawa)

Shawn as Cypher (AKA Jay Dietz)

Guest Villains:

The Astrologer

The Golden Phoenix

Renegade

Sagittarius (AKA The Archer)

Scorpia (AKA Whiplash)

Taurus (AKA Bulwark)

Co-Starring:

Felicity McQuade

Sakura Kuragawa

HCPD Sgt. Faith Padruski

Game Dates:

2145 – 31 AUG 06 thru 0300 – 02 SEP 06

Session Synopsis

 

Nightblade: 2156 – Thursday, August 31, 2006. Chinatown.

Even in a town as crime-ridden as Hudson City, where the chorus of urban night sounds is often punctuated with the sharp reports of gunfire, heavy automatic weapons fire can grab one’s attention, especially if it sounds like it’s coming from just a few blocks away.

I was keeping tabs on the Autumn Moon gang, the Qi On tong’s enforcers, who had been systematically been shaking down and ransacking local gift shops and jewelry stores for over a week. Word from Cypher was that they were looking for an item called the Jade Dragon because it was the symbol of the tong’s leadership. He also said something about it possessing magical powers, but aside from honoring the spirits of my ancestors, I really never bought into mumbo-jumbo.

One thing was for sure, though – the venerable Mah Sze, the head of the Qi On, certainly did, because his boys and girls were turning Chinatown upside down and inside out looking for it, despite the fact that Card Shark had apparently hired the metahuman assassin Golden Phoenix from China to bump him off. The last time I’d seen her was a week ago, just before she disappeared in a cloud of smoke and jumped through a window while I was helping Powerhouse rescue some mystics Card Shark agents had kidnapped.

The roar of the big automatic sounded again. FN-FAL, I guessed as I started moving, or some other battle rifle chambered for a .308 round. I leaped a gap between buildings, watching an alley blur by underfoot. There’s only one person I’ve heard of who carries that sort of firepower around with no qualms about using it, I mused as I danced through a network of rooftop plumbing reserved for a gravity-fed fire sprinkler system, The Renegade.

A few blocks ahead, I saw the stroboscopic flicker of a muzzle flare as a tracer round raced across the rooflines before it found an obstacle and arced skyward on the ricochet. I could just make out the muscular masculine form of the vigilante ahead of me. His target became obvious as an athletic feminine form dove past a lighted billboard with a flash of gold spandex – The Golden Phoenix. I paused just long enough to check my location, and I noted that I was on Qi On turf. Smart guy, I thought as I ran to catch up to the battle, He waited for her to show up at Mah Sze’s place. That sort of patience was out of profile for the vigilante. He must want to take her down very badly.

I caught to them near the south end of the Hite Rail Bridge. The Renegade and the Golden Phoenix were locked into a situation martial artists call “The Death Spiral,” where both combatants are out of position relative to one another, and yet are too close to back off for fear of leaving oneself open for attack. The Death Spiral forces both combatants into a dizzying series of desperation moves to force their opponent into trying to break contact with the other. Break contact and you’re a target; stay in contact and you can’t launch an effective attack of your own.

Golden Phoenix was the faster and more agile of the pair, but Renegade had a large-bore revolver in his left hand and was using to leave his opponent no avenue of escape. The ragged motions of their movements made it clear that both were running on pure adrenaline now, their chi being focused through a haze of agonized exhaustion and primal rage. There would be no surrender here in the shadow of the bridge, only death for at least one of them. The Death Spiral usually claimed both its victims, as one combatant, in the realization of losing, would lash out in his or her death throes to claim the other combatant.

I hesitated for a only a split second, considering whether I should just let them kill each other, or whether I should bare the blackened blade of my ancestors and cut down the victor in his or her moment of weakness. But I was moving even before that thought had fully formed, springing down into the blurring maelstrom of strikes and counter-strikes. My foot found Renegade’s revolver, hooking it from his grasp, even as Golden Phoenix backhanded me in mid-spin before planting the ball of one foot on the muscular man’s chest while laying the top of her other foot across his teeth.

I landed in a crouch, but continued the natural spin her attack had imparted to me, splaying my legs wide to take the assassin’s legs out from under her before she could plant her feet. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Renegade grabbing at the rig that carried his miniature arsenal, jerking a boxy submachine gun from a holster on his leg. As soon as I could transfer my weight to my feet, my hands were off the ground. My dirty palm found the familiar cool leather of the Nightblade’s hilt, and the black metal sang as the blade glided free of the sheath.

The myth that samurai and ninja can deflect bullets with their swords because their senses are so keen is a lie. Even staring straight down the barrel, no one has been able to follow a bullet from firing to impact since the days of black powder muskets. The truth lies in the probability that since most firers are right handed, a poorly aimed shot made in haste will fall to the target’s left and be lower than the center of mass. Add to that fact that katanas and the like have very finely crafted blades made of the highest quality steel while bullets are made of a relatively soft alloy of lead, and it becomes quite possible for a skilled swordsman with speedy reflexes to turn a bullet from the path which would have killed him.

Even as I was swinging the Nightblade through its first defensive arc, I saw Renegade dropping into a fighting crouch, grasping his weapon with both hands to steady it, his arms swinging the weapon in line with his sighting eye as it widened to adjust for the sights being lined up in front of it. He was leaning into the anticipated recoil of the thing even as the muscles in his forearms snapped taut to pull the trigger.

In a heartbeat, it was over. The storm of lead washed over and around me as the sword blurred through the disciplined arcs I had drilled into myself. Sparks flew from the blade while the bullets snapped and screamed past me on the their violently changed trajectories. I felt one crease the flesh under my left arm as the fusillade came to an end. I heard a body hit the ground behind me.

Golden Phoenix did not have time to defend herself from the attack – my counter-attack had ensured that. Left exposed, she didn’t have a chance against a submachine gun, and had simply turned her back to accept the inevitable. I went to her and rolled her over. I was shocked to see her peacefully smiling with her eyes closed, as if she had welcomed oblivion. Her right hand was clutched to her chest.

I spun around, as if expecting another attack from Renegade, but he was already gone. I turned back to the Golden Phoenix and slowly opened her hand. Nestled there was a small pendant, barely two inches long, of a serpentine dragon carved from jade entwined around a splinter of emerald on a slender golden chain – The Jade Dragon. On impulse, I took the pendant and chain from the assassin’s hand and slipped it into a pants pocket. I paused just long enough to offer up a prayer for her departing soul and then I faded into the darkness before the police could arrive.

* * *

Cypher: 0214 – Saturday, September 2, 2006. Bayside.

The duct was dirty, cramped and dark as I inched my way forward. I had been forced to stifle several sneezes and I desperately wished for a piece of hard candy or a throat lozenge to suppress the mounting urge to cough. How things were going with Powerhouse, I could only guess, but I’d heard at least one explosion since she kicked in one of the doors of the old theater. I wanted to go faster, but there was simply no way to hurry and stay quiet. So, I continued at a snail’s pace, accumulating the decades’ worth dust and grime that had settled in this metal box from countless showings of movies over the ages.

Even though I couldn’t get blueprints of the old theater, I had spent over an hour sizing it up on the outside while I was waiting for Powerhouse to arrive. My best guess was that the duct I was in would lead to the projectionist’s booth, the perfect out-of-the-way sort of place to stash someone one has kidnapped. The irony of it would not be lost on the victim, Felicity McQuade, who appearance in a film titled Gemini is what had raised the ire of a true believer in the power of the stars, The Astrologer.

The ventilation duct came to an abrupt end at the framework for a metal screen that was intended to be a lint filter of some sort. Inwardly, I groaned. There was virtually no room to maneuver in the duct, and my multi-tool was in my trench coat’s breast pocket. Cramped as I am, I thought glumly, it might as well be home in a drawer. I spent several seconds thinking over my next move, finally deciding I’d had enough of sneaking around.

It took five tries, but I managed to punch out the wire mesh screen of the filter, which immediately filled the duct with a cloud of lint and dust. Blinking rapidly, I could see a sheet metal access panel in the floor of the duct – obviously intended to give someone access to the filter screen for cleaning. I tried to manipulate the latch with my fingers, but it was rusted in place. In frustration, I hammered the panel with my fists until it broke open and fell to crash upon the floor.

I wasn’t far behind it, crashing painfully to the floor on top of the panel, sans my trench coat, which had hung up in the framework of the filter and the panel’s opening. I quickly regained my feet, collecting my pistol and eye shield while remembering to duck to avoid the overhanging duct. I quickly realized that I was in a narrow space between two movie projectors as I paused to make a futile attempt at brushing of the grime of the duct from my clothes. Then I stepped out from between the projectors to have a look around. I came up short when I met those eyes.

They were green, of course, the soft, earthy green of damp moss on a stone in a stream. The rest of the face was as flawless as good breeding, a healthy lifestyle and plastic surgery could make it, though one cheek was bruised and the eyes were rimmed with red from tears and bloodshot from fatigue. But there was no mistaking it – the woman bound to the chair no more than two feet away was the incomparably attractive and famous actress I’d labored in the duct to find – Felicity McQuade.

Involuntarily, I raised a finger to my lips for silence. A look of exasperation filled her features as she rolled her eyes. I smiled and hung my head. Of course, that was idiotic of me on two counts – the first being Felicity had been silenced by a chemical compound when she had been kidnapped, and the second due to my inglorious entrance. I waved my hands and mouthed the words, “I’m sorry” to her. Then added in a whisper, “I’m Cypher and I’m here to rescue you.”

Even though her vocal chords had been paralyzed, I found she could still whisper. “Aren’t you a little short for a storm trooper?” she breathed as I got to work on the ropes pinning her arms.

* * *

Nightblade: 1241 – Friday, September 1, 2006. LeMastre Park.

My daughter is growing up fast, I thought. She just turned four last month and her grandparents on her dear departed mother’s side complain they can’t keep up with her anymore. I sat on the bench and watched her enjoying the rigors of a jungle gym. Her smile is so much like her mother’s, and her laughter is the music of my soul – and I will do whatever it takes to keep the taint of my murderous past from poisoning her future.

The bullet wound under my arm was minor, but surprisingly painful for its size. After pulling the bullet from the wound with a pair of needle-nosed pliers, I went to Vreeland Memorial Hospital, claiming I’d had an accident with a nail gun. A few stitches later, I went back home to rest, only to be awakened to the familiar joyous cry of “Daddy!” from my little Sakura as her mother’s mother dropped her off for the day.

I sat on the bench in the shade on an otherwise beautiful afternoon, wrapped in thoughts of the previous night. The beatific expression on the face of Golden Phoenix merged with the savage grin of triumph on the face of Renegade as he gunned her down until both were juxtaposed and strange. I shook my head to clear it. Painkillers are messing with me, I thought and focused my attention on my daughter’s antics on the playground.

I felt the woman sit upon the bench without seeing her. “Not like you to be late, Faith,” I said.

She belched unceremoniously. “Nice to see you, too, Nightblade,” she said around a bite of chilidog. “This business with Felicity McQuade starting a singing career has kept the police department hopping. So what can I do you for?”

“I heard that your beat has been in Chinatown of late,” I ventured.

“Blame my partner,” she said, “Lo’s kind of a native and him being with a white woman isn’t nearly as offensive to some as anybody else might be. I’m beginning to think the rookie bastard is telling everyone that I’m his wife or something, the way half of them treat me.”

“You ever heard of the Jade Dragon?” I asked.

“Quite a bit of late,” she said while wiping her mouth with a paper napkin. “I hear that Mah Sze will trade one of his venerable testicles to get it back and that the younger wolves in the Autumn Moon gang are starting to get uppity with the old man because of it.” She tossed the napkin in a crumpled paper bag containing the remnants of her lunch and lobbed the lot of it at a trashcan some fifteen feet away. It caught the rim and bounced in. “Two points,” she sighed as she settled back on the bench. “So what’s your take on it?”

“I have it,” I said handing over a small jewelry box.

She sat up and opened the box without a word. “It’s beautiful,” she said in an uncharacteristic tone of awe. After contemplating it for a few moments, she turned to look at me. “Where the hell did you get this?” she asked.

“I’d rather not say,” I replied in an even tone, “but it only came into my possession late last night.”

“Whether you’d rather or not,” she said firmly, “I still think you should.”

I sighed. “The Golden Phoenix had it,” I said after an uncomfortable silence settled between us. “Renegade killed her and tried to kill me as well. Fortunately, my sword work was good enough to turn a few submachine gun bullets, which is why I’m here talking to you.”

She closed the box and held it out to me. “So what are you going to do with this little trinket?”

“I don’t know,” I said honestly, “but I know that it is not going to the Qi On tong.”

“It would be a dangerous thing to keep,” she said.

I nodded in agreement. “That’s why I’m giving it to you,” I said simply. “I can trust you and your partner to get it back to its rightful owners, or at least to start the process.”

Faith nodded, saying, “Okay, I’ll do what’s necessary.” She stood up. “Take care of yourself.”

I nodded in return. “You, too.”

She then turned to leave and I rose to join my daughter for a ride on the seesaws.

* * *

Powerhouse: 1815 – Friday, September 1, 2006. Bankhurst.

I was still wearing the sleeveless white dress with the flirty skirt line when I knocked on James’ apartment door. It didn’t take him long to answer it.

James opened his apartment door with a smile at first, but seeing my face, it faded quickly. “Hey,” he said with a note of genuine concern. He stepped up and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, escorting me in. “What’s the matter, Rhonda? Do you need a drink? Here, sit down and I’ll get you something.”

“No, please,” I said, clinging to his arm while pushing the door closed – forcefully, “Just listen to me a minute, okay?”

He nodded, his face still a mask of concern. “I’m listening,” he said, prompting me to go on.

“I can’t go with you to Malta tonight,” I said as I hung my head, “Something important has come up that I have to attend to.” He opened his mouth to say something, but I beat him to it, pressing my lips to his – savagely at first and then more tenderly. When I finally broke the kiss, we were tangled in each other’s arms on the couch.

“I still want to be with you this weekend,” I said, “but I don’t know how long I’ll be.”

James smiled and kissed me gently before answering. “It’s just as well,” he said in a slightly quavering voice, “I just found out that all of Malta’s hotels are booked solid this weekend. There’s some sort of festival going on.” He began to untangle himself from my arms. “You go do what you have to do,” he continued as he stood up and walked toward the door, “I’ll wait for you right here.”

Now it was my turn to be concerned. “James?” I began.

He shrugged in an almost helpless fashion. “Because it has been like this since we met,” he continued, “Either I’m too busy, or you’re too busy, or we’re both too busy to get anything serious going between us.”

I rose to my feet, keeping my temper in check. “Serious?” I asked. “How serious, James? We’re trying to make a living in a very fast-paced business world. If we want to stay on top, we’re going to have to accept that things happen to the best-laid plans. I’m not talking about scrubbing the whole weekend, I just need a few extra hours to get something done.”

He stepped over and grabbed my shoulders. “Up until recently,” he said, “I would have agreed with you. But now I’ve found something more important than money – more precisely, someone.” He paused to let that sink in and I felt all the fight leave me. “I love you,” he said, “and I want to be with you, and it hurts me when I can’t because one of us has ‘something else important’ to do.”

I put a finger on his lips to keep him from going on. “Hush,” I said softly, “and listen. I realize that we’ve been through a lot the past few of months together. But, to be very blunt, you don’t know me as well as you should and I don’t know you as well as I should before we get genuinely serious about this relationship.” I softened my expression a bit for the next. “But that doesn’t mean I haven’t felt something special about that whole us concept, either.” I glanced over his shoulder at the digital clock on the wall. “But,” I continued, “I really have to go now, so I can come back to you and make up for lost time.” I smiled seductively and he slowly started to smile as well.

He nodded at last, planting a tender kiss on my lips. “Don’t be too long,” he said.

“I promise,” I said while letting myself out.

* * *

Nightblade: 0125 – Saturday, September 2, 2006. North Elmview.

(PDA text file patrol090106.doc)

Friday Night

 

2245: Began patrol of North Elmview district at west end of Redwine Ave.

2312: Mugging thwarted at Five Points Station. Both attackers were dropping Fireballs – I left them and drug evidence secured to bottom of pedestrian walkway and called 911 to report.

2345: Discovered victim of drug overdose near Hornaday Towers. Drove victim in his car to Vreeland Memorial Hospital for treatment. Turned car keys, drug paraphernalia and packets of heroin over to hospital staff.

 

Saturday Morning

 

0031: Discovered unsupervised toddler in car outside of SEXX on Redwine. Further inspection of car revealed numerous open alcohol containers. Called 911 and kept an eye on the toddler until the authorities arrived.

0058: Attempted rape thwarted outside of Hotel Las Vegas on Dickson St. Three attackers captured, all carrying concealed weapons, all slightly injured. Victim slightly injured. I left them duct-taped to a lamppost in the parking lot while taking the victim to the hotel, allowing her to make the 911 call. I was probably a bit more violent than I should have been here, but one of the bastards kicked me right in my bullet wound!

0122: Thwarted armed robbery attempt at Quick Corner store at corner of S. Adams St. and Day Ave. Slight property damage on site caused by fleeing vehicle, robber slightly injured. Store clerk called 911. Estimated robber’s age at 16.

0148: Spotted vigilante Renegade northbound on S. Adams St. In pursuit.

* * *

Powerhouse: 0212 – Saturday, September 2, 2006. Bayside.

After I kicked one of the Capricorn Theater’s front doors off its hinges, I ran around to the back and hopped up onto the loading dock. It was just a bare expanse of concrete fronting a door to the stage, but it gave me the leverage I needed to gently force the back door without making too much noise.

As I was in the process, I heard the thunder of a large motorcycle rolling up nearby, followed almost immediately by an explosion and gunfire. I swore under my breath and let myself into the building as the sounds of battle reached my ears. I got down on my belly and peeked out from under a curtain at the scene out in the theater.

Sagittarius was closest to me, but his back was turned toward me. The Archer looked like a refugee from a meeting of the Society for Creative Anachronism, as spindly legs protruded from beneath a hauberk of chain mail. But that bow was no joke, and he handled it with a practiced, professional ease

Scorpia had traded in Whiplash’s traditional weapon for spring-loaded segmented metal thing mounted just above her butt with a slender spike in its blunt tip. The rest of her was covered in a glistening black latex bodysuit with particularly stylish boots.

She was mixing it with the gun nut in a sleeveless shirt, blue jeans, biker boots and a multiple weapons rig, who sported more Catholic-themed artwork on his arms than the ceiling of St. Peter’s. Judging from the hole in the wall where an emergency exit had been, I guessed he’d blown the door with an explosive.

Taurus was hustling down the far aisle, trying to get into the action. Bulwark’s normal fighting togs had been replaced with a helmet that attached to a harness at the shoulders and sported two wicked-looking horns. It also appeared he’d been working out during his most recent period of incarceration, though it hadn’t improved his looks one bit.

The Astrologer was standing in the front row of the balcony, watching another one of his “celestially inspired” plans going to pieces. Our eyes met and his widened in fear – he knew I really didn’t like him. He probably still remembered what I’d done to him the last time I was around when one of his master plans came crashing down around his ears. I smiled my most evil grin then threw myself at the onrushing Taurus.

[Note from Matt: The Astrologer is a mastermind villain in my campaign, thus the mastermind house rule from DC:TAS was in effect for the fight.]

The impact between Taurus and I knocked plaster off the walls as we both went tumbling into the racks of seats. Apparently, the helmet restricted his vision as well as his movement – and Bulwark was never much of a scrapper. I didn’t give him a chance to regain his bearings, though, as I clamped onto his helmet while planting my feet on his shoulders. A second later, something snapped in the harness, and I was left with a souvenir while Bulwark went flying across the aisle to carom off of the seats and the floor before coming to a rest around third row center.

As I clambered out of the theater seats, Sagittarius let an arrow fly at me. The broad head shattered on impact with my right shoulder, but it still stung. The sharp sound of solid impact drew part of my attention away from my attacker.

Scorpia had finally connected with that tail attachment and had laid the gun nut out cold. I have to hand it to the girl, she doesn’t look like much, but with a whip in her, um, possession she’s all kinds of nasty. I hate to admit it, but Whiplash has even handed me my lunch once.

I was just about to jump in when two things happened: First, Nightblade paired up with Scorpia with that black-bladed katana of his bared for a real fight. Second, Sagittarius got cute and plunked me with a trick arrow tipped with a pepper spray dispenser.

Blinded and gagging on mucus, I grabbed the first piece of the scenery I could get my hands on. I tore a seat back free and flung in what I thought was his general direction. I heard it clatter around the stage, but knew I’d missed him when he stung me with another broad head. “You’d better run, you spindly little twig!” I roared in frustration, as I ripped up another seat and flung it blindly at him. It must have worked, because he didn’t shoot at me again.

My vision cleared a few seconds later, leaving me to do some very unladylike things to breath unhindered again. When I got my bearings, Scorpia lay at Nightblade’s feet, her tail whip sheared off by the blade of the sword. Taurus was seriously out of it, while The Astrologer and Sagittarius were nowhere to be seen. I keyed open my headset. “Cypher,” I said as I ran toward what I thought the most likely exit for The Archer to have used, “Status report.”

“Felicity’s safe,” Cypher replied, “She’s in the process of securing The Astrologer to a chair for the authorities. He’s going to need a medic.”

“What happened?” I asked as I waived to Nightblade to head for the projectionist’s booth.

“He caught a swinging door with his nose,” he said with a bit of a laugh, “Of course, I nearly kicked it off its hinges in the process. It does look broken, though.”

I looked outside and saw my quarry desperately trying to start one of the cars in the lot behind the theater. “I’m going to run down The Archer,” I said.

“Hey, Powerhouse,” Cypher said in a warning tone, “Be gentle, okay? You know he breaks easy.”

Cypher had a point. “Okay,” I begrudged, “I’m going to kick his ass gently, then.”

“Cypher out.”

The Archer had just managed to get his Freetown Ferry started and rolling when I pulled even with an empty dumpster next to the loading dock. I waited until he had a good head of steam for the exit, when I tossed it directly into his path. There was a loud, oddly hollow-sounding impact and the engine died, spewing steam from a ruptured radiator.

I leaped over the car and ripped the driver’s side door off. “There’s two ways to do this,” I said sweetly as tossed the car door aside, “You can do exactly what I tell you to do, or I can beat you unconscious and do whatever I want. Which will it be?”

Crestfallen, The Archer folded and showed me his hands. “Smart choice,” I said as I beckoned him out of the dying vehicle, “There’s some hope for you, after all.”

* * *

Cypher: 0233 – Saturday, September 2, 2006. Bayside.

I didn’t think he’d take the news very well. I was right.

“He got away!” yelled Nightblade, “How the hell did he do that? He was out cold! I step away to treat a broken nose for a few minutes, and that murderer gets away while my back is turned!”

Renegade had indeed flown the coop while we were distracted with keeping both Taurus and Scorpia under control, and while Powerhouse was running down Sagittarius. The police had taken control of the scene while we camped out on a rooftop to observe the action, just to make sure the villains got all the way into custody.

“Easy,” I chided him, “We rescued a very famous movie star, and captured four escaped criminals in one fell swoop. That’s certainly worth celebrating, isn’t it?”

“For the most part, yes,” said Powerhouse as she gazed across the city’s skyline. “But we’re going to have to put that loose cannon on the shelf in the near future. And let’s not forget that Anagram is still at large, too, so our work is still cut out for us.”

“How did your meeting with her turn out, by the way?” I asked.

“We came to an understanding,” Powerhouse said.

Nightblade looked dumbfounded. “You let her go, too?” he asked.

“I traded information about the drama queen and his crew for Anagram’s continued freedom, yes!” she replied with no small amount of irritation in her voice as she turned to face him. “If you’re so gung-ho about it, the last place I saw her was at the Herodome two-and-a-half hours ago.” She waived at the skyline. “Be my guest!”

“Hey,” I said, clasping the two of them by a shoulder, “Let it rest, both of you. It’s obvious we’re all a little strung out here, so let’s just call it a night, okay?”

They nodded, shook hands and went their separate ways. After they had left, I pulled the cell phone out of my filthy trench coat and had it dial a number from memory. The phone rang four times before it was answered. “Yeah,” said a sleepy voice on the other end.

“Is this Larry Guiles,” I asked in my strident tones, “from the Hollywood Beat?”

“Yeah,” said Larry, who was starting to sound slightly conscious.

“This is Cypher,” I said into the phone, “I know that the last job was a bust, but if you’ll offer the same fee under the same conditions, I can tell you where Felicity McQuade will try to open her singing career tonight. Interested?”

SESSION NOTES

This was a sort of mishmash session where in order to include Nightblade into the storyline, I had to step back a couple of days and have him wrap up a loose end left over from a previous session. From a character development standpoint, this was a great session. From an overall fun standpoint, it didn’t fly very well. This was my fault as this was essentially the tail end of the previous session, where all I really had planned was the main fight (which I thought would take much longer than it did). Oh well, live and learn. The date of the next session is somewhat in doubt, since everyone is starting to get busy in his personal life again.

Note to self – when designing low-point value villains, make them one-trick ponies, because they’ll only last long enough for one or two combat phases before they’re on the carpet.

Anagram and Renegade should continue to be thorns for the characters, though I’ll have to work Powerhouse’s angle on trying to make Anagram an ally.

I have violated the Campaign Guidelines in this session, especially the part about excessive violence. I’ll have to crack down on myself to prevent it happening in the future.

OVERALL SELF-EVALUATION

This session could have been a lot better, but it also could have been much worse. Unfortunately, most of us have been driven to distraction by personal issues of various kinds over the past week, and that showed in the way the session was played. This session was also one of the worst off-the-cuff experiences for me, as my lack of planning for the inclusion of Nightblade was painfully evident. *Sigh* Well, at least there was Pocky and Orange Crush at the table, so the day wasn’t a total loss. J

-- Matt Frisbee 0302 – 10 SEP 2006

 

Due to my work schedule, there will be no game on 9/15 -- so next session is currently penciled in for 9/22.

 

Matt "Local-sports-scheduling-SNAFU" Frisbee

[Matt Frisbee]

Re: Knightshift Stories -- Campaign Log

 

THE ASTROLOGER’S CREW IN “SIGNS”

 

Sagittarius (AKA The Archer, AKA Stanley Bowers)

NPC Villain from Knightshift Stories

 

Characteristics (63)

 

15 STR 5 PD

18 DEX 5 ED

14 CON 4 SPD

12 BODY 6 REC

13 INT 28 END

11 EGO 27 STUN

10 PRE Phases: 3, 6, 9, 12

12 COM OCV 10, DCV 6, ECV 4

Powers (39)

Chain Mail Hauberk -- Armor (7 rPD / 3 rED), OIF (-½) [10]

Long Bow with a Quiver of Trick Arrows – Multipower (40-pt. Reserve), OAF (-1) [20]

1) Blunt Tip Arrows – 7d6 EB vs. PD, 6 Recoverable Charges (-¼), Ultra Slot, END=0 [1]

2) Broadhead Arrows – 2d6+1 RKA vs. PD, 6 Recoverable Charges (-¼), Ultra Slot, END=0 [1]

3) Pepper Spray Arrows – 3d6 Flash vs. Sight Group, 6 Charges (-¾), Ultra Slot, END=0 [1]

Long & Lanky Legs -- +3” Running (9’ Total, 18” NC), END=1/5” [6]

Talents (3)

Fast Draw (Bow & Arrows) 13- [3]

Perks (0)

 

Skills (55)

Breakfall 13- [3]

Climbing 13- [3]

CSL: +4 with Multipower Attacks [12]

KS: Archery 12- [3]

Lockpicking 13- [3]

Mechanics 11- [3]

Security Systems 12- [3]

Shadowing 11- [3]

Stealth 13- [3]

Streetwise 12- [5]

Survival (Temperate Forest) 11- [3]

Tracking 12- [3]

WF: Bows [1]

Weaponsmith (Bowyer / Fletcher) 13- [7]

TOTAL COST: 63 + 39 + 3 + 0 + 55 = 160

 

Disadvantages (100 base + points)

Archery-themed Villain – Reputation (Extreme, 11-) [15]

Avoids Melee Combat – Psychological Limitation (Common, Mild) [10]

Easily Swayed by the Fairer Sex – Vulnerability [seduction / Presence Attacks by Women]

(1½ x Effect, Uncommon) [5]

Hunted By Law Enforcement – Hunted (MP, NCI, Imprison, 8-) [20]

Known Felon – Social Limitation (Uncommon, Slightly Limiting) [5]

Loves the Old World Style – Distinctive Features [Dresses and talks like a Medieval person]

(Easily Concealable, Noticed and Recognized) [5]

TOTAL POINTS: 100 + 60 = 160

 

Scorpia (AKA Whiplash, AKA Talia Arachne)

NPC Villainess from Knightshift Stories

 

Characteristics (99)

15 STR 7 PD

23 DEX 7 ED

15 CON 4 SPD

14 BODY 8 REC

10 INT 35 END

11 EGO 35 STUN

15 PRE Phases: 3, 6, 9, 12

18 COM OCV 8+, DCV 8+, ECV 4

Powers (59)

Scorpia Battlesuit – All powers in this heading are OIF (-½) [53]

1) Battlesuit Armor – Armor (7 rPD / 7 rED) (14)

2) Tail of the Scorpion – 1 Extra Limb (3)

3) Telescoping Tail Whip – 2” Stretching, Only tail stretches, no movement bonus or non-combat stretch

(-1), END=1 (4)

4) Tail Stinger – 1 pip HKA (½d6 with STR), Penetrating (+½), END=1 (5)

5) Poison Sting – 2d6 STUN Drain, Linked to Tail Stinger attack (-½), 8 Charges (-½), END=0 (14)

6) Tail Whip Attack -- +5d6 HA (8d6 Total), END=1 (10)

7) Springer Boots -- +5” Superleap (8” Total, 16” NC), END=1+STR (3)

She’s Fleet of Foot -- +3” Running (9” Total, 18” NC), END=1/5” [6]

Talents (3)

Combat Sense 11- [3]

Perks (0)

Skills (34)

Acrobatics 14- [3]

Breakfall 14- [3]

Climbing 14- [3]

CSL: +2 with Tail of the Scorpion Attacks [10]

Security Systems 11- [3]

Seduction 12- [3]

Shadowing 11- [3]

Stealth 14- [3]

Streetwise 12- [3]

TOTAL COST: 99 + 59 + 3 + 0 + 34 = 195

 

Disadvantages (100 base + points)

Carries Grudges – Psychological Limitation [Vengeful] (Uncommon, Strong) [10]

Chip on Her Shoulder – Enraged when condescended to or mocked (Go 14-, Recover 8-, Uncommon) [10]

Dominatrix Tendencies – Psychological Limitation [sadist] (Uncommon, Strong) [10]

Hatred of Male Authority Figures – Psychological Limitation (Common, Strong) [15]

Hunted By Law Enforcement – Hunted (MP, NCI, Imprison, 8-) [20]

Known Felon – Social Limitation (Uncommon, Slightly Limiting) [5]

Prior Record – Villain Experience [10]

Sadistic Villainess – Reputation (Extreme, 11-) [15]

TOTAL POINTS: 100 + 95 = 195

 

Taurus (AKA Bulwark, AKA Angus Cowley)

NPC Villain from Knightshift Stories

 

Characteristics (113)

25 STR 8 PD

20 DEX 8 ED

20 CON 4 SPD

20 BODY 9 REC

10 INT 40 END

11 EGO 43 STUN

20 PRE Phases: 3, 6, 9, 12

8 COM OCV 7+, DCV 7+, ECV 4

Powers (35)

Battle Cattle Outfit – Armor (10 rPD / 4 rED), OIF (-½) [14]

The Power of Bull Helmet Gear – Multipower (20-pt reserve), OIF (-½) [13]

1) Head Butt Attack -- +6d6 HA (11d6 Total), Ultra slot, Usable only on a Move Through attack (-½),

END=2 [1]

2) Horn Gore Attack – 1d6+1 HKA (2½d6 with STR), Ultra slot, END=2 [1]

Hard Charger -- +3” Running (9” Total, 18” NC), END=1/5” [6]

Talents (3)

Combat Sense 11- [3]

Perks (0)

Skills (19)

CSL: +2 with all Hand-to-Hand Combat [10]

Shadowing 11- [3]

Stealth 13- [3]

Streetwise 13- [3]

TOTAL COST: 113 + 35 + 3 + 0 + 19 = 170

 

Disadvantages (100 base + points)

Big Hunk o’ Beef – Distinctive Feature [Large Muscular Man] (Easily Concealable, Noticed & Recognized) [5]

Hunted By Law Enforcement – Hunted (MP, NCI, Imprison, 8-) [20]

Known Felon – Social Limitation (Uncommon, Slightly Limiting) [5]

Metahuman Mercenary – Reputation (Extreme, 11-) [15]

Prior Record – Villain Experience [10]

Overconfidence – Psychological Limitation (Very Common, Moderate) [15]

TOTAL POINTS: 100 + 70 = 170

 

 

Matt "The-guy-at-the-keyboard" Frisbee

[Matt Frisbee]

Re: Knightshift Stories -- Campaign Log

 

Originally, I was all depressed about a changing work schedule -- but upon further review with my boss, it turned out to be a typo. So, as it stands, the game is back on for September 22nd -- I hope.

 

Matt "Scratchin'-my-head" Frisbee

[Vassoom]

Re: Knightshift Stories -- Campaign Log

 

SESSION SEVEN – 08 SEP 06 “SIGNS' date=' PART II”[/size']

 

Even in a town as crime-ridden as Hudson City, where the chorus of urban night sounds is often punctuated with the sharp reports of gunfire, heavy automatic weapons fire can grab one’s attention...

Great stuff! (I especially like your opener, quoted above...)

 

Looking forward to the next installment.

 

- Vassoom

[Predatorpt]

Re: Knightshift Stories -- Campaign Log

 

I only found this thread yesterday and I have to say that it's great. Nice players you've got there! And the way you write the logs is awesome. Repped!

[Matt Frisbee]

Re: Knightshift Stories -- Campaign Log

 

I only found this thread yesterday and I have to say that it's great. Nice players you've got there! And the way you write the logs is awesome. Repped!

 

I appreciate the praise, though you may want to try repping people after you get some of your own. Plus after you're made 50+ posts. Otherwise, glad you enjoyed the effort, and I'll pass the praise on to Barry, Brad & Shawn.

 

Matt "Makin'-the-efforts" Frisbee

[Predatorpt]

Re: Knightshift Stories -- Campaign Log

 

I appreciate the praise' date=' though you may want to try repping people after you get some of your own. Plus after you're made 50+ posts.[/quote']

 

Ermmm...does this means that everytime I've clicked the rep buttom I've been making a fool of myself? HUMANITY WILL SUFFER FOR THIS

 

I've always thought I was giving rep......cough, cough. Thanks for the heads up!

[Vassoom]

Re: Knightshift Stories -- Campaign Log

 

Ermmm...does this means that everytime I've clicked the rep buttom I've been making a fool of myself? HUMANITY WILL SUFFER FOR THIS

 

I've always thought I was giving rep......cough, cough. Thanks for the heads up!

I awarded rep to others several times before earning any rep or hitting the 50 post "Rep Power" threshold. I think it still works.

 

The secretive ways of the "Rep Power" are veiled and mysterious...

 

- Vassoom

[Trebuchet]

Re: Knightshift Stories -- Campaign Log

 

I awarded rep to others several times before earning any rep or hitting the 50 post "Rep Power" threshold. I think it still works.

 

The secretive ways of the "Rep Power" are veiled and mysterious...

It still works before you get to 50 posts, it just doesn't give the recipient any rep points. They still get an "attaboy" and a little gray box in their Rep listing.

 

It's really the thought that counts anyway. That's why I always put in a comment too.

[Edsel]

Re: Knightshift Stories -- Campaign Log

 

Gee I have been busy. I just now managed to make the time to read session 7. As always a good story.

[Matt Frisbee]

Re: Knightshift Stories -- Campaign Log

 

Glad you enjoyed it, Edsel.

 

Unfortunately, things have cropped up for this weekend that have forced us to postpone our session this week. Hopefully, things will settle down a bit over the next week and we can all get back to the table on September 29th.

 

Apologies to everyone who've been enjoying these write-ups. Thanks for your support.

 

Matt "Why-can't-I-just-win-the-lottery-already?" Frisbee

[Matt Frisbee]

Re: Knightshift Stories -- Campaign Log

 

INTERLUDE -- 25 SEP 2006 -- "ALPHABET SOUP"

D - R - U - G - S

The letters rested comfortably snug on the inner surface of the soup spoon as Anna contemplated them through wisps of vapor from the bowl. Below the spoon was the familiar heated slurry of tomatoes, vegetables and pasta letters in a plain white bowl, separating the golden brown triangular wedges of a grilled cheese sandwich on a plain white plate.

Familiar things, these, Anna mused as she slurped the letters off of the spoon, Signposts of childhood. She dipped the spoon into the bowl again, dredging its depths for more pasta playmates. It's been a long time since my mind has been this calm outside of The Asylum, she thought, raising the spoon to her lips, and then froze, staring at the letters there.

F - R - E - E - K

The spoon shook in her trembling hand as she stared at the word, her eyes wide in horrific recognition. cOMe pLay WiTh ME, aNAgraM, echoed from the depths of her mind. NObodEE evEr PlayS wItH mEEEE...

The spoon fell from her trembling fingers to plop back into the bowl, the word erased in a flurry of Brownian motion in its murky depths. But her eyes were no longer focused, staring at some undefined point a thousand yards below the table. The memories flooded back like a clogged sewer, filling the corners of her memory with the filth of horror and fear.

i MiSS yoU, AnAgRAm, whispered the voice of Freek soundlessly as a breath of cool night air, wE USed tO haVe SUcH fuN togETheR. YoU thINk suCh PRetTy THoughTs oF PAYNE...

It was the voice she couldn't shut out -- the one of lonely, forbidding madness that touched the minds of every patient at The Asylum. The thoughts of a psionic psychopath locked up deep within the sub-basement of the complex, where few dare to tread, resonated throughout the complex, warping all it touched with pain and fear and misery. Somehow, in the depths of her despair after being sent here the first time, he -- it touched her mind, seeking to sow seeds of its madness in a new host.

It called itself Freek.

"STOP IT!" she screamed, and then she was falling to floor, clawing at her red tresses with desperate fingers, as if the memories were maggots squirming just below her scalp. She cried in hopeless desperation, sobbing at the pain and the ragged edges of her madness that fringed her vision and thoughts.

ThE DRugs aRe POYzen, AnaGRaM, sighed the Freek over her struggles, TheY taKe aWAy YUR KahNTrol -- MAkE yoU a PUPpeT, sayINg PRetTEE ThinGS THEY waNT tO HeaR.

"If you and The Asylum are the alternatives," Anna growled through her shuddering fear, "I'd rather die!"

yoU Kahll THIS LivinG? mocked Freek from the back of skull. SHeez USinG yoU. WanTZ YuR mINd iN a BAHX sHe Kan pUT oN a SHELF! MaKE yoU dO hER ThinKInG whEN SheeZ StuMPed!

"NO!" Anna shrieked, "Powerhouse is helping me!"

FeeDINg yoU KANDEE iZ heLPIng yoU? hissed Freek. ITz a KAHLer ANd A lEESH yoU KAn't weAR AnD LiVe FUR LahNG. SYkohTROHpiks wILl eAT yUR LIHvur evENtuALEE, LIKe KANDEE KAYNE.

"LIAR!" she cried. "Kandi Cain died of withdrawl symptoms from her own drugs!"

frEEQ NahT LYEENG! rasped the soundless voice in her head. yoU Ask poWERhAUS nEKS tyMe yoU sEe hER. WhEN yoU KNow tHe TRuTh, I wiLL bE WAYTEENG...

And then it was gone, releasing her. Anna's body shook and she could taste vomit in the back of her mouth. Her sobs shifted from terror to release and genuine sadness. She could smell urine and sweat mingling with the salt in her tears. Sprawling in abject misery upon the polished boards of her kitchen floor, she poured her pain upon it, howling in frustration as the sorrow turned to rage, her fists pounding the floor, echoing hollowly in the unfurnished confines of the tiny apartment.

Finally, her emotions spent, she lay gasping upon the floor. A few moments later, she dragged herself up from the floor by bodily climbing the straight chair in which she had been sitting a few minutes ago, using it for support as she rose to her feet. She stared at the remnants of her repast on the card table in front of her, her features twisting into a sneer as she saw the letters floating on the surface of the soup.

T - R - U - T - H

"I hate cold soup," she said simply, then turned her back on it as she stalked to the bedroom, just three steps away. A moment later, four bottles of pills streaked across the space to clatter across walls and floorboards before finally coming to a rest in the far corner of the barren kitchen.

A moment after that, Anna emerged in a body stocking with a familiar crossword motif. A domino mask framed the green eyes which burned with anger and determination. The beginnings of a cold, cruel smile touched the corners of her mouth as she eyed the bowl of soup again.

Slowly, carefully, she spooned out letters of the bowl, carefully placing them in a row upon the lip of the plate, while munching one of the triangles of the grilled cheese sandwich.

K - N - I - G - H - T - S - H - I - F - T

"Time to play," she said coldly, "and this time, it's a brand new game." She pulled off her gloves and left them with the bowl. She picked up the other half of the sandwich, turning her back on the table, slamming the apartment door in her wake.

Matt "Wheels-are-turning" Frisbee

[WimpyBrick]

Re: Knightshift Stories -- Campaign Log

 

Well that has me tingling with antici---pation.

 

I was wondering how long that crimson tressed one would manage to lie low.

 

Here's hoping that I can be in attendence when next our group of erstwhile heroes ventures forth.

[Direbadger]

Re: Knightshift Stories -- Campaign Log

 

Out of curiosity, how long are your average sessions lasting?

 

Trying to get a feel for how much to plan per session for my own game.

 

Thanks.

[Matt Frisbee]

Re: Knightshift Stories -- Campaign Log

 

Out of curiosity, how long are your average sessions lasting?

 

Trying to get a feel for how much to plan per session for my own game.

 

Thanks.

 

Direbadger,

 

Thanks for your interest!

 

A typical session is about four hours, though we have gone as long as six (once). With our current situation, I'm not sure when we're going to get together again, but I decided to get some writing out of my system since my workload was light Sunday night.

 

Matt "The-compulsive-author" Frisbee

[Matt Frisbee]

Re: Knightshift Stories -- Campaign Log

 

Well that has me tingling with antici---pation.

 

I was wondering how long that crimson tressed one would manage to lie low.

 

Here's hoping that I can be in attendence when next our group of erstwhile heroes ventures forth.

 

Hey WimpyBrick,

 

You'll have to ask Barry about that one -- he's got a lot of irons in the fire right now, plus he wants me to start running a Cyberpunk game at the store. We'll have to catch as catch can so far as our group getting together. But I'll keep my fingers crossed.

 

I missed you at the store's opening over the weekend, by the way -- have you made it out there yet?

 

Matt "My-spare-money's-taken-now" Frisbee

[longbow]

Re: Knightshift Stories -- Campaign Log

 

I Was thinking we could just game at the store, but that does leave out Barry. After reading adout Anna and Freek I think we are in for a really twisted adventure.

[Matt Frisbee]

Re: Knightshift Stories -- Campaign Log

 

I Was thinking we could just game at the store' date=' but that does leave out Barry. After reading adout Anna and Freek I think we are in for a really twisted adventure.[/quote']

 

It should be, longbow -- but it is really going to depend on everyone's schedule. Still, if you and WimpyBrick really want to play and we all have the time, we may go ahead (provided we can find another place to play).

 

Matt "The-frustrated-GM" Frisbee

[Rhonda Savage]

Re: Knightshift Stories -- Campaign Log

 

Friz, I'ma gonna slap you bout the head and shoulders. Ya know how hard I'm trying with Anagram? Huh? Do ya? Heheheh. Sounds like an awesome lead in my friend. Here in a short while when the store dies down to a dull roar I'll be strappin on the spandex once again.

 

Later Bro.

Barry

AKA- Powerhouse